Pokemon World
by Will Fail For Food
Summary: The story of an American trainer who plans to conquer the World League while a sinister organization with a strange gift rises in the background. All original characters and plot.
1. Noobs In England

Pokemon World

PART 1

1

Noobs In England

Man, England is cold! I never knew it was so damp and rainy there, especially since I had been living in Los Angeles for the last two years.

My name is Scott Luther, and I was about to graduate from my two-year term at the American Trainer Academy in L.A. Most kids who want to work with pokemon enroll in the Academy at thirteen, thus becoming official trainers at fifteen years old, and from there, they could receive their first pokemon. It's every young trainer's dream to defeat the seven Leagues and become World Champion, and I'm not outside that group.

But yeah, England is cold. We had just flown to London for our graduation ceremony, and from there, the class was spending one year in Europe for training. And not only that, but there's a pecking order for the seven Leagues, and the European League is the first tier, so why not get it out of the way while we were there?

And it was cold. Did I mention that yet? I stood there with my teeth chattering, slowly getting drenched in a fine drizzle as me and my friend, Damian Black, stood with the rest of the class at the bus terminal outside Heathrow Airport in London, waiting on the motor coach that seemed unlikely ever to come.

"Cold?" Damian laughed as I shivered uncontrollably.

I nodded, hugging myself for warmth. Damian laughed again. He was from Colorado, so he was a little more used to the cold than a kid from Arizona, like me. Damian and I had been friends since our first day at the Academy, and as such, we had decided that not only were we friends, we were rivals. Damian and I were one day going to fight for the title of World Champion, and somehow we both knew it. That was my goal as a trainer, to one day beat Damian, a feat I had never yet managed, even though I had top grades in our simulation courses. It's just that… Damian just has this thing with pokemon, even computer-generated ones. They seem to understand each other perfectly, and so, Damian had beaten me. Damian was valedictorian, while I was second in the class.

"God, finally!" I heard Damian say, and I looked up from my musings to see that the huge, double-decker motor coach had arrived. Damian and I joined the line boarding the bus and I sighed in relief as we got up the stairs and into the heat.

"This little bit of cold is really screwing with you, isn't it?" Damian asked as we sat down.

"I live in Arizona, and we've been in L.A. for two years," I shot back. "Give me a break, dude."

It took about forty-five minutes to reach the huge banquet hall where our graduation ceremony was being held. When the bus stopped outside the building, the voice of our teacher from the Academy, Professor Holly, came over the intercom. "Well, it's time, everyone. Before we proceed, I'm to give you your table and seating assignments so that you know where to go. Headmaster Charleston is then going to explain the ceremony to you so you'll know what to do. Now, if you would all stand up and make your way to the front of the bus, starting with the lower deck…"

We all stood, and soon Damian and I were at the front of the line to receive our seats. Holly handed us each a piece of paper, and as soon as we were off the bus, we looked at them together.

"Table four, seat one," Damian read.

"Table four, seat two," I muttered.

"Sweet," Damian said. "We're at the same table, at least."

We walked through the doors into a huge, majestic banquet hall, with medium- sized round tables all spread evenly around a raised stage area. The stage was round, and a pattern like a pokeball had been painted on it. It didn't take a genius to figure out what it was.

"Why…?" was Damian's question, though it couldn't quite form. It was a very good question, though.

There was a pokemon battle arena in the center of our banquet hall. What was going on?

"Maybe we'll get to watch a fight," I suggested with a shrug.

"What if it's Charleston?" one kid asked excitedly.

"Sweet," another girl said. It would be, too. Headmaster Charleston had won the World Championship title back in his day, and we all knew he kept all his pokemon in fit shape.

We all filed in and proceeded to our seats, waiting with anticipation for whatever was about to happen. Once everyone was seated, I turned to Damian. I had barely opened my mouth, however, when he put a finger to his lips and pointed toward the stage.

There stood a man with short gray and a thick, bushy mustache. He wore a charcoal-gray suit, leaning ever so slightly on a cane. Six red and white pokeballs gleamed from his belt, and his eyes twinkled as he smiled.

"Good evening, class," Charleston called, addressing us as he always had at the Academy.

"Good evening, Headmaster," we all responded.

"Well, I am honored to be here tonight," Charleston said. "I offer to congratulate you all on a job well done, and just say that I am very proud of you all.

"Unfortunately, I regret to inform you that you are not yet finished. All three hundred of you are potential graduates, but only one hundred and fifty of you will leave here as official trainers. Half of you will receive your official trainer certification, but the other half of you will be sent out to spend part of your year here in Europe training instead. In addition, those of you who do not pass will have to wait four months before you can receive certification and begin to challenge the European League. You will also be expected to return home at the end of the year, and thus will probably have to return to finish your run with the European League at a later time."

Muttering had broken out in the crowd at the news that only half of us would graduate tonight. The rest of us would have to wait four months? It was ridiculous! We had all worked hard to get here, and now we were going to be just shunted to the side if we didn't pass whatever test they presented us with tonight?

"Do not worry, however," Charleston continued. "We are not begrudging anyone the right to a pokemon. You have all earned that much. Therefore, I implore all of you who do not pass tonight to spend the next four months training, so you can still make your run through League before we must return to the States.

"Now, you're all probably wondering how this is going to proceed. We are going to call pairs up to battle. The winners will pass while the losers will fail. Your opponents will be selected randomly by computer. Each of you will be given your first pokemon to keep before the battle begins. These pokemon have been chosen based on your own personal strengths and weaknesses, and each one was chosen specially for each one of you by me, Professor Holly, or Professor Yew. We chose pokemon that we believe would make good partners for you, balancing you out and allowing you to work well together."

Great. Another wrench in the works. We wouldn't even know what pokemon we were going to be fighting with, let alone not knowing who our opponents were. I looked over at Damian, who was grinning in anticipation. He was good at this kind of thing, though. I, on the other hand, wasn't so good with going in blind, which was indicated by the sudden urge I had to go to the bathroom. But I knew I'd have to hold it, because a large screen was descending from the ceiling.

"Now, if you would all turn your attention to the screen," Charleston said. As if he had to tell anyone. "Computer, randomize."

Names began to flash rapidly across the screen, moving so fast that it didn't matter whether you could read them or not. Suddenly, they abruptly stopped. The two kids indicated stood and walked up to the stage. One of them was sweating so hard that his face shone in the spotlight on the arena.

Professor Holly and Professor Yew, our two teachers from the Academy, walked up onto the arena, each of them holding a pokeball, and presented them to two guys. Adam, the sweaty guy, almost dropped his, his hands were shaking so badly. Jason, the other guy, looked a little more confident, but not by much.

"Begin," called Headmaster Charleston from the seat he had taken at the table next to the arena.

Adam and Jason threw their pokeballs into the ring, and, with two massive flashes of light, a pokemon materialized on each side of the ring. On Jason's side, there was a small, blue bird with a red-and-white chest and long tail feathers. Meanwhile, on Adam's side, there rose, thirteen feet into the air, an enormous serpentine pokemon made of rocks and boulders, with a long stone spike rising out of its head.

The tables had turned, and now Jason was the one sweating.

"Alright, Onix!" Adam shouted, all traces of nervousness gone. "Tackle!" The Onix opened its mouth and gave a bellow that sounded like an avalanche cascading down a mountain, then it brought its head down on the exact spot the Taillow had been only seconds before it finally had the brilliant idea to get the hell out of there. The little bird shot up into the air as Onix's head crashed down on the arena. The smack of stone on metal was so loud that it broke a glass on the table next to us.

"Taillow, use peck!" Jason shouted. "Go for the eyes!"

The Taillow spiraled down toward Onix's head, then the bird jammed its beak straight into one of the rock snake's eye sockets.

Jason's face lit up, then quickly turned to horror. "Ye-NO!" Taillow's beak was stuck in Onix's eye, and Adam's malicious plan was revealed in his face as he called out, "Now, Onix, roll over!"

I closed my eyes, but it didn't prevent me from hearing the crunch as the Onix rolled over, crushing the Taillow under its head.

"The winner is Adam Creston," Headmaster Charleston called out, and the class broke into applause. The two pokemon were returned to their pokeballs and Professor Holly rose and handed a Trainer Card to Adam, while Jason returned to his seat with his head hung, the embodiment of shame.

The battles stretched on long into the night, with no ties and no surrender. I started to sweat when a hundred and twenty-five battles had passed, and neither myself nor Damian had been called out. What if we were forced to fight? One of us would go on, while the other one would be left behind. But the battles were random, I kept telling myself. What were the chances that-?

"Next battle," Charleston called. "Scott Luther versus Damian Black."

And there it was. The computer had really done it. I had been randomly chosen to fight the one person I knew I wouldn't be able to beat. But somehow, I think I knew we would have to fight. I had known it since they had announced the whole 'random battle' method, and I wasn't scared as I stood up to make my way to the ring. Instead, I was simply resigned to my fate. What the heck, it was only four months, right?

"Good luck, bro," Damian said, slugging me on the arm as we ascended the steps onto the ring and then moved to opposite sides. My brain began to flash off facts about the arena. After a hundred and thirty-some-odd battles the ring wasn't quite flat and shiny anymore. There were dents and gouges and battle scars all over the place. This wouldn't be easy…

I had to force my brain to remember that I was going to lose.

Professor Yew crossed the treacherous arena with my pokemon and handed it to me. "Just remember your battle strategies, Scott," my Battle teacher muttered. "You'll do fine."

"Thanks," I said, taking my pokeball. Professors Yew and Holly then returned to their table sitting on either side of Headmaster Charleston. The hall was silent with anticipation as the crowd waited on the edge of their seats for Charleston to call, "Begin."

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**Hey everyone, this is PerdyNerdy. Well, if you're reading this, I'm assuming you just read the first chapter of my story, and I hope you enjoyed it. Feel free to review or whatever. Oh and by the way, to the one guy who read my last version, yeah, this is new, but I just recently actually learned how to do stuff on here, so I'm changing it and adding my notes and stuff to the chapters. Anyway, yeah, I'll try to update regularly, it's all a matter of how often I can reach a computer, so bear with me. Patience is a virtue, folks. Peace to all of you, **

**PerdyNerdy**


	2. First Fight

**Hey everybody, it's me again. Yeah, weird, I know, publishing two chapters right off the git, but took a look and realized how much of a cliffhanger I left you at, and figured I'd probably lose sleep over it, so I put this one in too. Hope you enjoy it!**

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2

First Fight

"Go!" Damian shouted, hurling his pokeball into the ring. It popped open, and with a flash of light, there appeared what looked like a small, floating clawed leg made of blue crystal. One red eye blinked from the area where the joint would be if it were attached to a body. The Beldum gave a cry that sounded like a song heard through an iron wall.

I threw my pokeball, scared of what would be inside of it. A small, humanoid pokemon on two legs with light gray skin and tan head crests stood there, its reddish eyes glinting in anticipation. My heart leapt as I watched the Machop bouncing back and forth on his heels in excitement. I could actually win this!

Damian closed his eyes. He seemed to be trying to figure out a strategy. He nodded once, then snapped his eyes open and called out, "Beldum! Use take-down!"

Beldum spun toward Machop, spiraling straight for him, and nailed him in the chest.

"C'mon, Machop, throw it off!" I shouted. Machop grunted and grabbed the Beldum, holding it tight. "Now use low kick!" Machop punted the other pokemon back over to Damian's side, where it skidded across the metal floor, digging its claws into the ground to slow itself down.

"Beldum, use confusion!" Damian shouted.

Oh shit. I had almost forgotten, Beldum was part-Psychic as well as part-Steel. A ray of concentrated mental energy coalesced into being in the air in front of the Beldum, shooting straight for Machop. He was hit full in the face, and went flying out of the ring. He flew over forty feet through the air and smacked the opposite wall.

"And the winner is…" Charleston started, but was cut off by cheers. Machop was getting back up! He limped back up to the arena and stood in front of me. I was about to give him another command, then I realized that his right leg was broken. It was clearly bent in two weird places. Machop's face was fixed in a grimace of pain, though mixed with a grim determination. But there was no way he could fight like this. I knew what had to be done.

I held up Machop's pokeball, white side up, and withdrew the little guy. It was the worldwide sign of surrender. Damian looked shocked. I shrugged. It was okay. I didn't want anyone to be hurt any more than was necessary, human or pokemon.

"The winner is Damian Black," Charleston said, looking shocked as well. Professor Holly rose and presented Damian with his Trainer Card as I turned around to go sit back down, resigned, but then-

"Scott, wait," Headmaster Charleston called. I turned around, looking toward him.

"Yes sir?" I asked.

"You pass," he said.

"Wait, what?" I asked. I could feel my brain going numb. Was this happening?

"You pass," he repeated. "Never before have I seen a student who cared so much about a pokemon, especially one he had never met before. You will make an excellent trainer."

My face split into a wide grin. Was it possible? Was I actually going to be able to go on and fight the League?

"Th-thank you so much," I stuttered as Professor Yew clapped me on the shoulder and handed me a Trainer Card. It was just a small plastic card with my picture and basic information on it, but other than the black magnetic strip that ran along the bottom of it, it didn't look all that special. Still, I as official now! I was a fully-fledged pokemon trainer, and this card was proof!

"We need to proceed to the next battle, Scott," Yew muttered, with a hand still on my shoulder.

"Yeah," I said, and headed back to my seat. I barely felt my feet moving as Damian and I walked back to the table. My head was spinning. Utter disbelief whirled throughout all my emotion.

After that, the last couple dozen battles seemed to speed by in a rush of minor violence and a wide assortment of pokemon. When the final battle had ended, Headmaster Charleston and the Professors rose and climbed back up onto the stage, which was now beaten beyond recognition, and looked around to face the crowd.

"Good show, all of you," Charleston called. "Now, if we could have another hand for our new graduates!"

The hall burst into applause, though some people seemed to be a little reluctant about it.

"And of course, a hand for our trainees, who of course, all fought valiantly!"

Damian and I rose from our chairs, clapping. All around the room, the winners were rising to give the losers a rousing standing ovation. Some of the losers looked embarrassed, while some of them grinned, while other simply locked their faces into looks of grim determination.

"Well, congratulations to you all once again," Charleston called. "And now, I'm afraid we must all go our separate ways. But do not be discouraged, because now is your time. Your time to pick up the mantle borne by every generation of pokemon trainers before you. You are the future, and you will pave the way for more to come. Be proud, for what you have accomplished cannot be accomplished by just anyone. And now, we finally break. Good-bye, all of you, and good luck."

We all turned toward the doors and filed out, heading across the road, through the London night, to the hotel where we were all staying, and after checking in, Damian threw himself onto his queen-sized bed, saying, "Wow, dude. I can't believe we did it, man! We're in!"

"I know," was all I could say. "It's awesome, man…"

And then I was asleep.

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**Might be a short one, but this chapter took me a really long time to write, what with deciding on starters and then actually doing the fight, so I hope you enjoyed it. Let me know what you thought!**

**PerdyNerdy**


	3. My New Friend the God

3

My New Friend the God

I knew something was wrong as soon as I woke up. My internal alarm clock snapped me awake at about seven-thirty, like it usually did, but I had shared a dormitory with Damian long enough to know that he usually gained consciousness at about ten if we didn't have classes, and we definitely didn't have classes anymore. Therefore, the absence of his snores was a tipoff that something was up. I rubbed my eyes as I clambered out of bed and made my, uh… morning constitutional… to the bathroom, and when I came back, sure enough, Damian was nowhere to be found. His bed was even made, too. I grabbed my room key off the bedside table, thinking maybe Damian had gotten up early for his complimentary continental breakfast.

But when I checked the hotel dining room, he was nowhere to be found. I walked out into the lobby, utterly bemused. Maybe he had gone out to look around London or something…

I walked up to the concierge behind the front desk and asked, "Excuse me, but have you seen a tall, gangly kid with red hair come through here?"

"Oh yeah," the guy said. "He walked through at about five this morning with a backpack on."

I was a little confused. "Did he come back?"

"Nope," the man responded. "Hey, are you Scott Luther?"

"Yeah," I said uneasily. "Why?"

"He told me to give you this if you came looking for him." The concierge handed over a folded a piece. One word was written on the outside in Damian's familiar, rough script:

Scott

I flipped it open and read the short message inside. It read:

Hey, sorry about the no warning, but I thought that if we're doing the whole rival thing, might as well do it right. See you whenever, bro.

-Damian

I was stunned. I couldn't believe Damian had left. Just up and booked it. "Did he say anything else?" I asked the concierge.

"Nope," he replied. "Sorry, mate."

"That's alright," I said. "Thanks anyway."

I then headed back up to the room and lay down on my bed, staring up at the ceiling. I couldn't believe Damian left. I had always planned on battling the League alongside my best friend and rival, not competing against him the whole way. This would change a lot of things…

It wasn't until I noticed the water dripping into my eyes awhile later that I realized I was outside. I was out in the middle of a busy London street, and the misty drizzle from last night had persisted into this morning.

I walked aimlessly down the street for at least an hour, looking around at the businesses and stores, some that were just opening, others that had been open all night. I kept looking around, and my eyes briefly razed over a building with white outer walls and a red roof, which I recognized as a Pokemon Center. I turned and did a double-take as I remembered how my new Machop's leg had looked the night before. It had been completely bent in another direction than it was supposed to be…

I hurried into the Center at that thought. They might as well revoke my card already. How could I have been so careless? Headmaster Charleston had just told me I would be a great trainer because I was so kind to pokemon, and yet I had put my own fatigue over my pokemon's gruesome injury? What the hell was I doing, anyway?

I ran across the waiting room to the desk, where a pretty, red-haired receptionist sat. "Welcome to the London Pokemon Center," she said with a smile. "Can we help you?"

"Yeah," I said. "My Machop broke his leg in a battle last night. Could you get him in a cast or something?"

"Of course," the girl smiled. Thank God she didn't ask any questions about why I hadn't acted sooner. "We'll get you into Emergency as soon as we can. Just go through those doors and stay in that waiting room."

"Thanks, um…" I trailed off. I had noticed on the way in that the receptionist, who only appeared to be a couple of years older than me, had a gorgeous figure, and I wasn't about to look down for a name tag.

"Rose," she said. The way she giggled made me think that she knew exactly where my mind was.

Luckily, I managed to hold off turning red until after I was facing the ER doors. What was it about British chicks, anyway?

As I went through the doors, I realized that I would probably be here awhile, because some of these injuries made Machop's leg look like a scratch.

A boy sat in a chair next to a Charizard whose orange skin was pale and the tip of whose tail resembled barely glowing coals. A girl was holding the pieces of a Magnemite that had lost its charge in her arms, and over in the corner, separated from the waiting room by a glass partition, lay a Weezing with a huge hole punched into it, barely visible through the haze of toxic gases pouring from its wound. Its trainer stood there with his hand on the glass, as though trying to touch the poor creature.

I took an empty seat next to a guy whose Scyther had an arm blade dangling gruesomely, nearly severed from its arm, and hanging on by a single thread of flesh. I pulled Machop's pokeball and let him out, to see that his leg hadn't improved much since last night.

"I'm so sorry, little guy," I said.

"_Chop_," he grumbled.

"I didn't mean to forget about you," I persisted. He shrugged. "Well, at least we'll get you fixed up now, okay?" Machop nodded.

"Blimey," the guy with the Scyther said. "I've never actually seen a Machop in person before."

"I just got him last night," I said proudly. "He's definitely a fighter."

"Yeah, this guy is too," the boy said, throwing a thumb over his shoulder toward the Scyther. "He got in a fight with another Scyther over a mate, and it got a little out of hand."

"Yeah, I bet," I laughed.

"The crazy things guys'll do for women, eh?" he said. He held out a black-gloved hand. "Name's Austin Harper. Most people just call me Harper though."

"Scott Luther," I said, grasping his hand.

"Where you from, Scott?" Harper asked.

"U.S.," I said.

"I got that, mate," he laughed. "Conspicuous lack of accent sorta gave it away. Where in the States?"

"Phoenix, Arizona," I said. "What about you? Scotland?"

"Nah," Harper replied. "I'm an Aussie, matter of fact. Just come up with Razor here to take a little vacation and check out the European League."

"Really?" I asked. "I just graduated from L.A. last night."

"Well, congratulations, mate," Harper said. "How's it feel to be official?"

We spent the next half an hour or so getting to know each other, though, about every five minutes, Harper had to spray some potion on his Scyther's wound to try and stop the bleeding.

Finally, a nurse opened the door and called, "Scott Luther?"

"Right here," I said, raising my hand.

"We can see your Machop now," she said.

"Oh, right," I said, holding up Machop's pokeball. "Come on back, buddy." When Machop had returned to his pokeball, I handed it to the nurse, who smiled at me.

"Don't worry," she said. "He's in good hands."

"Thanks," I said, smiling back.

"It'll be okay," the nurse said, quietly but kindly. "I remember when I was a rookie too." She then turned around and walked back through the doors.

As I was turning back toward my seat, I noticed a pop machine on the other side of the waiting room and realized that I hadn't drank anything since the graduation ceremony last night. I walked over to the machine and bought myself a Mountain Dew before sitting back down by Harper and Razor, his Scyther. I cracked it open and took a long swig.

"You see the boobs on that receptionist, mate?" Harper suddenly asked. I choked, spewing Mountain Dew all over the place. The kid with the Charizard glared angrily at me as he used his body to shield the huge lizard's barely-burning tail from the spray of soda.

"Could've given me a little more warning…" I spluttered, eyes watering, as Dew dribbled out of my nose.

"Bad timing, mate," Harper said chuckling. I heard a high, fast-paced chirping noise and looked over to realize that Razor was laughing at me too.

"You never did answer the question, mate," Harper said.

"Well, yeah, she definitely, uh…" I trailed off sheepishly.

Harper laughed. "You never beat around the bush when it comes to women," he said. "They like a straightforward guy."

"I'll keep that in mind," I scowled as I stole another swig from my pop before he could say anything else.

Harper and I spent about three hours in the Pokemon Center, because between Machop and Razor, their operations took up a pretty good chunk of time. He was a pretty cool guy, and it was easy not to brood on Damian's sudden departure while hanging out with him.

Once Razor had been released from the E.R. with both arms in perfect condition, Harper pulled him back into his net ball, a pokeball modified to contain Bug- and Water-type pokemon more effectively, and we headed back out into the open reception area.

"Watch and learn, mate," Harper said, then crossed to the girl behind the desk.

"Can I help you?" Rose asked.

"Actually, I just wanted to tell you that you are very beautiful, darling," Harper said. She flushed with pleasure, but I couldn't help laughing at how sappy Harper sounded.

"It goes against my moral standards to lie to a beautiful woman, you see," Harper continued, "so I won't lie to you, gorgeous. That uniform looks uncomfortably tight, and I have to say, I don't like seeing a beautiful woman in discomfort, so if you'd like me to remove it for you, I'd be more than…"

_SMACK!!!_

Her hand left a five-fingered red mark on his face as she hauled off and slapped him so hard that his head turned all the way to one side.

"Worth it, sweetheart," he muttered through what would soon be a fat lip. "Totally worth it."

He turned around and walked back to the spot where I was on the ground, rolling around with laughter.

"Good job, Pimp-a-licious, I snorted, standing back up straight and patting him on the back. "I'll definitely remember that."

"Just wait for it, mate," he muttered under his breath as we walked out of the Pokemon Center.

I wanted to say, "Wait for what?" but I didn't get the chance because, as soon as I opened my mouth, the front doors opened behind us and Rose, the receptionist, ran up to Harper and handed him a folded piece of paper, whispering, "I'm off at six." Shen then ran back inside.

Harper grinned at me, flipping the paper open for a brief moment, revealing what was obviously a phone number. My jaw dropped open.

"…The _hell_, man?" I asked, amazed.

"I told you, mate," Harper said. "Straightforward."

"You, my friend, are a god," was all I could say.

* * *

**Hey everyone, it's me. Hope you liked the chapter. It's one of my personal favorites because I got to introduce my favorite character (guess who). Next chapter should be out within the week. I know this one was a little early, but it was done as a favor to a friend of mine, who just started reading and wanted to know what happened next, so I guess this chapter is dedicated to Jared. Here you go, buddy! Have fun, everybody!**

**PerdyNerdy**


	4. The Trick

**Hey everyone! Sorry about the wait, but here's chapter 4. Consider it a late Christmas present to you all!**

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4

The Trick

"Alright, Machop!" I shouted. "Use karate chop on that rock over there!"

Machop leapt into the air, bringing his hand down on the rock I had indicated, splitting it cleanly in two. When the small cloud of dust had cleared, I called out, "Good job, buddy! Now try it one more time!"

Machop then performed the same maneuver, slicing another rock, and this time, what looked like sparks of blue energy seemed to explode out of him in all directions. "And I think that's leveled up," I said. "You ready to call it a day, little guy?"

Machop nodded, though he still seemed eager to train. We walked back down the street to the hotel from the little park we had been using to train for the last two weeks and proceeded back up to the room. Machop threw himself down on the bed that had once been Damian's, and picked up the remote, switching on the TV.

"You're not gonna become one of those pokemon that never wants to stay in the ball, are you?" I asked Machop. He shrugged, flashing me a devious grin.

"_Chop!"_

"Ah, whatever," I said as the phone rang. I picked it up with a "H-yello?"

"Hey, Scott, it's Harper," came a familiar, accented voice. "Finally tracked you down, mate."

"Hey!" I said. "How're you, man?"

"I'm alright," he said. "Actually, mate, I was wondering if you wanted to hang for awhile tonight. Me and Razor don't have any previous engagements or anything, so hey, I thought I'd get hold of you. You're about the only decent person I've met in England, and you're not even British, mate."

I laughed. "Yeah, that'd be cool, dude. Where are you?"

"Actually, I'm in the lobby of your hotel, mate," he said.

"Dude, you're starting to creep me out," I said with a chuckle. "Yeah, we'll be down in a minute."

"Alright, see you then, mate," Harper said, and hung up.

"Hey, Machop, you want to go hang out with Harper and Razor tonight?" I asked.

"_Chop!"_ Machop said excitedly.

"Alright, let's go then," I said, grabbing the bomber jacket I bought a few days before off the hanger in the closet and pulled it on, heading out the room door as I drew Machop back into his pokeball, much to his resentment. I was going to have to keep an eye on that.

When I reached the lobby, sure enough, there stood Harper, his messy, sandy-blond hair pulled back into a short ponytail, leaning up against the counter and hitting on the female concierge stationed there. He then turned and saw me stepping out of the elevator.

"And there's my friend," he said. "It's been a pleasure, darling." He kissed her hand, and she blushed and giggled.

When we were outside the hotel, Harper said, "God, mate, what is it with these British chicks?"

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"I been here two and a half weeks, and I've already dated six girls. They're so easily flattered, mate. And they don't even grow 'em that great here, either."

"I dunno," I responded as we passed a group of girls. "They grow 'em alright over here. We could be in Japan or something."

"Touché, mate, touché."

We walked up the road to a bus stop.

"Where we headed, anyway?" I asked.

"You'll see," Harper said. We stood there in silence for a little longer, then he said, "So, you guys been doing a lot of training?"

"Yeah," I said. "We've been putting in about six or so hours a day."

"What level is your Machop at now?" Harper asked.

"About… fourteen or so, I think…?"

"That's a lot of progress for two weeks, mate. Have you fought any major battles?"

"Not exactly," I said, a little embarrassed. "We've fought some people in the park we use to train, but other than that, not really."

"It's all good, mate, it's all good," Harper said as the bus pulled up in front of us. I reached into my pocket for fare as we climbed the stairs, but as I did, Harper held up a hand. "Nope, my treat, mate," he said, whipping out his Trainer Card and swiping it through the payment machine twice.

We then proceeded about halfway to the back of the bus and grabbed two seats. "Right next to the heater," I sighed. I still wasn't used to the cold here.

The ride took between fifteen and twenty minutes, and we stopped and got off somewhere deep in the heart of London. I was starting to get a little worried, considering that the "downtown" of any big city was never a great place to be hanging out.

"Come on, mate," Harper said, gesturing to toward an alley across the road.

"You're serious?" I asked. "You want to go hang out in a back alley in downtown London?"

"C'mon, trust me," Harper said. "You think I'd bring you all the way down here to hang out in an alley? Follow me."

Seeing as how I had no idea where we were or how to get back to the hotel, I followed, although by now I was seriously wondering whether or not Harper was such a good guy after all. I placed my hand on Machop's pokeball, trying to reassure myself that everything would be okay.

We walked about fifty yards down the alley, when Harper suddenly stopped. He then pulled out his Trainer Card, seemingly for no reason, but then he stuck it into a small slot on the wall that was barely visible in the impending dusk, and a small green L.E.D. above it flashed twice. Then, a section of what appeared to be solid brick wall slid back a few inches, then to the side and out of sight, leaving an opening roughly a foot taller than me in the wall.

Harper walked through the doorway and began to descend a flight of stairs that I couldn't even tell was there. But as soon as the wall opened up, I could hear the telltale thudding of a bass drum coming out of the hole.

I went from being afraid to confused at that point. What was this, a nightclub? That you needed trainer certification to get into? This was making less and less sense with every passing second.

"Coming?" Harper called over his shoulder when he was halfway down the stairs.

"Yeah," I said, and followed him down. The farther down the stairs we went, the louder the music got, until the small passage opened out into a huge room full of people.

It had the appearance of a heavy-metal mosh club back home, with a live metal band rocking out on a raised platform off to one side, with an enormous mosh pit formed and still growing outward. On the other side was a bunch of small tables, where people sat eating, drinking, smoking, making out, whatever people usually do at nightclubs.

"Come on," Harper said, grabbing my sleeve and pulling me over to an iron spiral staircase that rose up to a railed-off upper level that stretched around the entire room. Once we were up there, we had a perfect birds-eye view of the entire club.

By the way, there was one other detail I forgot to mention. In the center of the club was a round, raised stage area, painted like a pokeball. This battlefield was white and completely smooth all the way across, though at the moment there was a battle in full swing.

On one side was a girl with brown hair, wearing a generic, grey hoodie and jeans, and looking distinctly nervous. But on the other side of the ring stood a guy who obviously knew what he was doing. He wore a long-sleeved tee shirt with a white body and black sleeves, emblazoned with a grinning smiley-face and the encouraging words _**FUCK YOU!**_ His wallet chain hung almost down to his knee, and in the brief flash of light from the spotlight when he moved, I saw that it was an iridescent red color. He had straight black hair that was cropped short in the back, but hung in two curtains down to his jaw in the front. A pair of square, black-rimmed glasses finished off the look nicely. He commanded his Raticate so expertly that the girl's Vulpix lasted about two minutes, then passed out and had to be rushed to the tiny Pokemon Center in the next room.

"Who _is_ that guy?" I asked in awe.

"His name's Chad," Harper said. "He's an old friend of mine, and he's a friggin' genius when it comes to battling. He can be a bit of a jerk sometimes, though."

"Come on, that was pathetic!" the guy named Chad called to the club at large. "Can't anyone challenge the British Gym and win?" the music had gone quiet, and no one spoke.

My jaw dropped. I turned to Harper, who just stood there grinning.

"This is the gym?" I hissed in horror.

Harper just kept on grinning.

"Come on, people," Chad called. "A challenger, any challenger!"

Suddenly, the crowd burst into cheers. Someone was approaching the stage, though I couldn't see who it was from this angle. As the guy climbed the stairs though, I saw that he was tall, with messy red hair, wearing a black leather jacket and dark blue jeans.

"This guy looks pretty good," Harper said, nodding approvingly.

"Come on, face the crowd, challenger," Chad said. The kid turned, raising a fist in determination, and my jaw dropped even further as a terrible shock of recognition rocked me.

The challenger was Damian Black.

* * *

**Well, I don't have much to say about the chapter... but I hope you all liked it, anyway! I promise I'll put the next one up soon.**


	5. Supreme Ownage

**Hey, everyone, sorry about the wait... but uh, yeah, here's chapter 5. Hope y'all likes it.**

* * *

5

Supreme Ownage

I couldn't believe it. The guy who stood on the stage next to the Gym Leader was Damian, my best friend… my rival. He stood there with his normal look of cocky determination on his face as Chad said, "What's your name, challenger?"

"Damian Black," Damian responded.

"And you still want to face me after that last battle?" Chad asked. "You can back out any time before a ball is thrown."

"Why would I back down from a fight I know I'll win?" Damian shot back.

Chad grinned. "I like this kid," he said. "This should be interesting."

Chad and Damian crossed to opposite sides of the ring. Chad called, "You all know the rules. One-on-one, fight all the way up to the K.O., and _absolutely_ no surrender."

Damian grinned. "Understood."

"Then let's get this started!" Chad cried, hurling a pokeball into the ring. It burst open, and his Raticate appeared, teeth bared and whiskers twitching. Damian also a pokeball into the ring. It popped open, and instead of his Beldum, which I had expected, what seemed to be a large rock with arms and a face appeared, hovering about a foot off the ground. The Geodude cracked his knuckles together threateningly.

"Alright, Raticate!" Chad shouted. "Hyper fang!"

"_Raticate!_" The big rat pounced on Damian's Geodude and went to sink his fangs in, when Damian shouted, "Now, Geodude! Defense curl!"

The Geodude wrapped his arms around himself, the way he normally would to raise his defense, but actually wrapping them around the Raticate. His eyes grew huge as his windpipe started to constrict, but Chad called out, "Come on, Raticate, use hyper fang again!"

Raticate opened his mouth again and chomped down on Geodude's upper left arm. Raticate teeth were made for breaking through hard things, but the rocky arms of a Geodude were made for crushing. At the point, it was only a matter or what would crack first; Geodude's arm or Raticate's spine.

Turned out, it was actually Geodude's arm. With a crunch, Raticate's teeth broke through the stone and the severed arm fell to the ground, freeing Raticate from Geodude's clutches. Well, technically, I guess the term would have been clutch now…

Geodude didn't cry out or anything, but, hey, I don't really think he felt a whole lot, considering… well, he was a rock, and probably didn't feel a whole lot of pain anyway.

Damian shouted, "Geodude, catch!" and then pulled something out of his pocket and threw it to Geodude. I saw the small, blue berry go whizzing through the air just before Geodude caught it and stuffed it in his mouth. The effects of the Oran Berry seemed instantaneous, for as soon as he swallowed it, his arm began to grow back.

"Raticate, bite!" Chad called out, and the Raticate tackled Geodude, attempting to get his teeth in again, but this time, Geodude threw him off with ease.

"Geodude, come here!" Damian called. Geodude hurried over to him, where he stood waiting with something in his hand. The small disc glinted as he reached out and placed it on Geodude's head.

Geodude closed his eyes as if in a trance, and it began to glow.

"Hold, Raticate," Chad called out, though he looked pretty pissed about having to do so.

"What's he doing?" I asked Harper.

"He's using a T.M. to teach the Geodude a new move," Harper growled. "Friggin' cheater."

"But that's legal, isn't it?" I asked. "Damian wouldn't do anything illegal, in a battle in a battle, I know him better than that."

"It's not illegal, mate," Harper said. "But it _is _friggin' annoying, that's for sure. Challengers should make all preparations before a battle against a leader."

I nodded. This _was_ taking a ridiculously long time. To break the tension, the guitarist of the band started to pluck out the notes of a song we all knew, much to the crowd's pleasure. Everyone began to laugh as the whole band joined in, for it wasn't every day you heard a thrashing heavy metal version of the "_Jeopardy_" theme song.

After they finished the song, he waited for more seconds, then suddenly, Geodude's eyes snapped open, and the small disc on its forehead stopped glowing and clattered to the ground.

"You good?" Chad called to Damian.

"Yup," Damian said. "Let's go."

Suddenly the thrashing battle music was back on, and the two pokemon were back in motion, as if they had never stopped fighting.

"Show 'em what you just learned, Geodude!" Damian shouted. Geodude grinned.

"_Dood!_" Geodude bellowed, drawing back its newly regrown fist. The sound of his knuckles cracking echoed through the gym, even louder than the music, as he laid a hand on Raticate's shoulder and drew the fist back even further.

"Rock smash!" Damian cried as Geodude's punch nailed the Raticate in the face, sending him flying out of the ring and out into the crowd. A circle cleared in the crowd around the spot where Chad's Raticate lay, unconscious, obviously in no shape to fight anymore.

"Raticate!" Chad called, running down the steps off the stage, the crowd parting like the Red Sea to allow him to reach his pokemon. He reached him and fell to his knees, pulling Raticate's pokeball off his belt. "Come on back, buddy, you did great." He then drew him back into the ball, and walked back up onto the stage.

"Well, congratulations, Damian Black," Chad said, turning to Damian. "I hereby present you with an official Pokemon League Neutralbadge. You win."

The crowd was silent, then I shouted, without even thinking about it, "YEAH! GO DAMIAN!!!"

As the crowd erupted into cheers, my best friend turned and looked up to see who it was who had started the uproar. Our eyes met, and his face cracked into a huge grin. Damian was back.

* * *

**Does anyone else think I shouldn't have done that? You know, brought Damian back in so early? I've been thinking about that a lot, actually. I mean, i can't do much about it now, but I've been wondering whether it was good to do or not. I guess I'll just wait on reviews from you guys. Thanks for reading!**

**-PerdyNerdy**


	6. I Grow A Pair

6

I Grow a Pair

"How are you, man?" Damian asked me. We sat at a table, casually rocking out to the band over tall glasses of Mountain Dew and Dr. Pepper, respectively.

"I'm good," I said. "What about you? Where did you go?"

"I've been around," Damian said. "I actually spend most of my time here. I've been studying Chad's fighting style since graduation, and once I picked up that H.M., I figured I'd just use it here, seeing as Chad's a Normal Master. I've just been training up this Geodude I caught, because I figured Beldum wouldn't have cut it."

I shrugged. "Well hey, you won, right?"

Damian took a sip of Dr. Pepper. "You've got it easy this gym," he said. "You have a Machop. Chad won't be able to throw much at you."

"Is that really all he uses?" I asked. "Just Normal-types?"

"Yup," Damian said. "The only thing you really have to worry about is if he uses his Pidgeotto, 'cause it'll out-type you. Other than that, you should be okay."

"But I wasn't even planning on challenging a gym yet," I protested. "I'm not ready for that yet."

"Then what are you doing here?" Damian asked.

"A dude I met at a Pokemon Center dragged me along," I said.

Damian snorted. "You make it sound like you're on a date with the guy."

"Shut up," I said. "I'm pretty sure Harper's not like that. That's him over there." I pointed to the spot where Harper sat, surrounded by chicks.

"Damn," Damian said. "He seems popular."

"Yeah," I agreed, then, though I'm not quite sure why I said it, "and he's Australian."

"Lucky bastard," Damian said under his breath.

I nodded, taking a drink of Dew through the straw.

"So what have you been up to?" Damian asked.

"Uh, training, mostly," I said. "Went out and explored a little bit too."

"Just training?" Damian asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Well, yeah," I said. "You have to train to get better."

"Yeah, but you also have to go out and catch some pokemon, get in a few fights, do some tactical studying, y'know?" He crossed his arms. "Come on, bro, if you want to beat me and win the world title, you're gonna have to walk the walk too. Quit stalling, dude."

"I'm not stalling," I said defensively. "I just need a little more time to practice."

Damian shrugged. "The test is upon you, man. You've had your study time, now's the time to buckle down and take it."

My doubts must have shown on my face, because Damian leaned toward me and said, "C'mon, Scott. You know Chad's style now, and this is the easiest it's ever gonna get. The more you put it off, the more _he's_ just gonna keep getting stronger. You can do it, man. Just have a little faith."

Damian's words were slowly sinking in. It had already been two weeks, and I had that much less time to make it to the other gyms scattered around Europe. And, whether I wanted to admit it or not, I _was_ pretty confident in Machop's fighting abilities.

"I'll do it," I said.

Damian grinned. "That's my boy."

I got up from the table and began to walk toward the arena. I passed Harper, who called out, "Hey, Scott! Come join the party, mate!" I kept walking. I slowly made my way through the crowd and up the stairs onto the stage, people realizing what was happening as I walked.

The crowd had fallen silent as I rose up the steps to the stage. I vaguely recalled that when Damian had come up here, the crowd had been cheering. I almost wished I could have had moral support like that.

Chad stood across the arena from me. He looked at me and grinned. "Another one, eh?"

"Can I make a challenge?" I asked.

"Always," Chad said. "What's your name?"

"Scott Luther," I said.

"Well, Scott Luther, you look pretty weak," Chad said, sizing me up. I guessed he was about eighteen or so. "Maybe I can get some dignity back here."

He threw a pokeball into the ring, which burst open, revealing a Furret, a long-bodied pokemon with brown-and-white stripes.

I tossed my pokeball in, and Machop popped out… fast asleep.

Crap! I forgot, we had just spent all day training!

Chad let out a bark of laughter and said, "Check this kid out! He talks all tough, but he can't even keep his pokemon awake! Furret! Use bite!"

The Furret bounced back and forth eagerly, then sped forward and chomped down on Machop's arm, drawing blood.

"Dammit!" I shouted. "Wake up, buddy!"

"Keep it up, Furret," Chad called. "We'll have the little man down in no time! _And _his narcoleptic Machop!"

I could see Machop reacting to the pain in his sleep, and by and by, his eyes snapped open. He grabbed the Furret by the head, yanked her teeth out of his skin, and threw her back to Chad's side of the field, where she landed on her feet, hissing.

I ran to Machop, pulling a potion out of my pocket and spraying it on the bite mark, which began to heal instantly. "Good to have you back, little guy," I said.

"_Chop!_" Machop cried, cracking his knuckles eagerly.

"Furret, use tail whip!" Chad called. Furret wagged her tail cutely, but machop didn't care.

"Don't take the bait, buddy!" I called out, just in case. "Don't drop your guard!" Machop looked to me and quickly flashed me a thumbs-up. I grinned.

"Karate chop!" I called. Machop sped toward Furret, running full-tilt at her.

"Easy," Chad scoffed. "Dodge it, girl!"

Furret shot to the left, and I seized my chance. "Now, Machop! Low kick!" Machop then flattened his right palm, which had just been about to chop down on Furret's head, on the steel floor, using the momentum from the chop to fling his body to the right. His foot connected squarely with Furret's face, causing her to go flying back to Chad, clearly defeated.

Chad's eyes widened. "Impossible," he moaned, falling to his knees. "Twice… twice in a row… I haven't lost in two years, and I lose twice in one day… twice…"

I understood. Chad hadn't been beaten in two years, and then he was beaten twice in one night, both times to kids younger than he was. It explained the fact that the crowd didn't cheer for me as they had for Damian. They had enjoyed seeing their king dethroned, but I had kicked the guy while he was down, before he even had a chance to recover at all. I had won, sure, but it didn't feel like it. I felt awful, nowhere near how I thought I would feel after winning my first gym battle.

"Here…" Chad muttered, holding out his hand. "Take it…" I walked over to him and took the proffered Neutralbadge. The small metal pin glinted, two circles connected by two parallel lines.

"Thanks…" I said, quietly. "I'm sorry… I didn't know…"

"Had to happen someday, Scott," Chad said, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "You and your friend are superb fighters, and whether I act the part or not, I'm proud to welcome you to the European Pokemon League." He stood up and called to the crowd, "C'mon, everyone, I'll get over it! Give this guy a hand!"

It was as if they had been waiting for permission. The entire gym burst into cheers and applause, and the band began to thrash out another song.

I turned toward the railed upper level to see Harper going nuts. "I knew you could do it, mate!" he shouted, jumping up and down. "Told you he would be great!" he said to one of the girls, who scowled, pulling a wad of money out of her shirt and handing it to her friend, who was grinning.

Then I turned toward the table Damian and I had been sitting at to see that it was deserted.

Not again…

My eyes scanned the room, looking for him. Suddenly, I saw him, catching sight of my tall red-haired friend heading up the stairs out of the gym.

I pushed through the crowd, following him. I couldn't believe this was happening again.

I made it through the crowd and sprinted up the stairs and out of the concealed entrance into the London alley, where it had started to rain again.

Damian was nowhere to be seen, but as I reached the main street, I saw a cab driving off up the road. I turned back toward the entrance of the gym, and something caught my eye. It was a folded piece of paper stuck into the sheltered, dry area between two trash cans. It read two words:

Good Fight.

* * *

**I know, short battle. And thanks for all the tips, everyone, I'll keep them in mind while I'm writing. I'm glad to be able to do this and have so many people reading it for me. Thanks for everything, guys!**

**-PerdyNerdy  
**


	7. The Gospel According to Harper

7

The Gospel, According to Harper

My bag was packed and my checkout time was noon. It had been three days since I had won my first European badge, and I figured that instead of sticking around England, I should get going. I had another five badges to go before I could challenge the European Elite, but I wasn't sure where to go now. If I only knew which direction I had to start moving…

I had talked to Harper after Damian had left (again), and he agreed to travel with me. So now we just had to meet up and make up some kind of game plan.

I pulled on my coat and picked up my backpack, looking around one last time at the hotel that had been my home for the last two and a half weeks. Machop looked up at me sadly. "_Chop_," he muttered sadly. I could tell he didn't want to leave.

"Sorry, buddy," I said. "I don't know when the next time we'll be able to stay somewhere like this will be." Machop's head fell. He, like me, wasn't looking forward to the possibility of roughing it for who knew how long. "Come on, let's get out of here." The two of us headed out the door.

After turning in our key, we headed out the front doors of the hotel and up the road toward the restaurant where I had agreed to meet Harper before we set off.

I walked into the small restaurant and sat down in the area indicated to wait for a seat. I checked my watch. Eleven thirty-five. Harper should have been here by now.

Suddenly, just as I was thinking it, the door opened with a tinkling of the bell, and in walked Harper with a small, humanoid pokemon with big eyes and apparently no mouth, though it had a huge horn- or crest-like growth sticking out of the back of its head and hanging nearly down to the floor. Machop shuddered, and I understood. Something about the little pokemon seemed a little ominous to me, too.

"Morning, mate," Harper said, walking over to me. "You ready to set out?"

"Not really," I admitted. "I'm gonna miss sleeping in a bed, that's for sure."

Harper laughed. "C'mon, let's eat."

A waitress walked up to us, asking, "Smoking or non?"

"That depends, sweetheart," Harper said. "Which side do you wait on?"

The waitress blushed. "I'm waiting on smoking today."

"Then I suppose I'll have to risk it, gorgeous." He kissed her hand, then turned to me. "So long as my good friend Scott has no objection."

I shrugged. I didn't smoke, but I knew enough people who did that it didn't bother me anymore, so I didn't really care either way.

"Alright, no objection," Harper said, turning back to the waitress. "Lead the way, beautiful."

The waitress led us to a table and handed us four menus, two of which had normal, written descriptions of the food, while the other two had pictures, obviously for the pokemon. I'm not sure why, but I suddenly noticed that Harper's strange-looking pokemon seemed to be sitting backwards next to him on the seat, its horn-thing lying almost all the way across the table.

Machop pointed at something on his menu that looked like a meatball with spikes erupting out of it. I looked at the words underneath it and frowned, raising an eyebrow.

"Fried Qwilfish?" I asked incredulously. "Dude, you don't want that. I'd be picking spines out of your sorry butt for weeks."

"_Chop_," Machop muttered sheepishly, looking back at the menu.

"You like fondue, mate?" Harper asked me.

"Yeah, that's good with me."

"Alright, we set then?"

"Just waiting for Machop."

"See that's the good thing about Jaws over here," Harper said, pointing at the pokemon. "He always gets the same thing."

"Jaws?" I asked blankly. The creature didn't seem to have a mouth, why would Harper name him Jaws unless it was a joke?

"Yeah, he's a Mawile," Harper said. "Native to the Outback."

"I've never seen one," I said, still trying to mull over the nickname, and still getting nothing.

"_Chop_," Machop said, pulling on my sleeve. I looked over at him to see him pointing at a picture of a leafy green salad.

"That's better," I said as the waitress returned to our table.

"Everybody ready?" she asked.

"Yes indeed, babe," Harper said. "Me and my good friend Scott will take the Miltank-Mudkip fondue platter, and this guy," he added, pointing at Jaws the Mawile, "would like the house's Tauros, as rare as you can make it. Actually, you may not even want to bother cooking it, sweetheart, 'cause if you do, he probably won't even eat it."

The waitress made a note on a pad, turning to me. "And what would you like?"

"I'm sharing the fondue," I said, "but my Machop would like the Bulbasaur leaf salad with a side of fried Tentacool rings."

"Anything to drink?" the waitress asked after she finished taking Machop's order.

"Mountain Dew," I said. "And some chocolate milk for the little guy." Machop scowled.

"Root beer and, uh…" Harper looked over at his Mawile. "How about just some ice water? He'll probably just drink the blood from the steak anyway."

"Okay, then," the waitress said, arching an eyebrow."I'll have that right out for you." She walked away toward the kitchen, and Harper turned to me.

"Got a little something for you, mate," he said, pulling a small book out of his jacket pocket and handing it to me. In huge, flashy lettering across the front were the words

European Pokemon League

"Oh, sweet," I said, flipping it open. This brochure gave the names and locations of all the European Gym Leaders, along with their battle elements and style tips for going up against them.

"Where did you get this?" I asked, amazed.

"I know people, mate," he said. "Just don't whip that thing around too often in public. I'm not supposed to show it to a bunch of people. Treat it like a Bible."

"Sure," I said, and I sure as heck planned to. I was back in business! We had a game plan for sure now!

"So where do we go next?" I asked. I didn't even really ask, I more like muttered it to myself. I flipped open the booklet and went a few pages in to the Gym Leaders section. On the first page of the chapter, I saw a headshot of Chad, the British Gym Leader, and under the picture, a short bio that read:

Chad Shepherd

Gym Location: London, England

Birth Date: 6/13/89

Pokemon Proficiency: Normal

On the next page, there was a series of photographs of the pokemon Chad was likely to use in battle, along with a description of his fighting style.

"This is amazing," I said, turning a page. On the next page, I saw another headshot, this one of a cute girl with bright-red hair and dark blue eyes. Freckles covered her cheeks, and she wore a wide grin that looked practically eternal. The bio under her picture read:

Katie O'Malley

Gym Location: Dublin, Ireland

Birth Date: 3/17/92

Pokemon Proficiency: Fire

I continued to read on the next page.

Frequently Used Pokemon: Growlithe, Vulpix, Slugma, Ponyta

Battle Strategies: Offense, burn damage, etc.

How to Win: In order to beat Katie in a battle, one must possess knowledge of defensive tactics, and water-, rock-, and ground-types. Burn heals are useful.

"And here's the food, mate," Harper said, pulling my attention away from the book. I saw the waitress waltzing her way toward us, balancing a big tray of food in one hand over her head.

"Here we are," she said, placing plates in front of everyone. In front of Machop she placed a big, leafy salad and a basket of deep-fried rings of meat. In front of Jaws the Mawile she set a massive raw, bleeding steak, practically floating in the blood on the dish. Between Harper and I, was a small platter with chunks of beef and fish spread across it. I chuckled a little when I saw that the fish still had a bluish tint.

She placed a raised iron ring on the table, and into it she laid a pot of shredded cheese. She then pulled out a pokeball and released the small, tan-and-black mouse-like pokemon inside it. The Cyndaquil wandered across the table, skirting the food and lying down on her stomach underneath the pot.

"_Quil_." With a squeak, the red patches in the black fur on her back exploded into flame and began heat the pan. Within minutes, the cheese had melted, and the Cyndaquil lowered the heat, leaving the cheese to bubble and simmer.

"I'll just leave this little sweetie with you guys for a little while," the waitress.

"She's in good hands, darling," Harper said.

"Okay," the waitress giggled, then walked away.

"Let's eat," Harper said. Instantly, Jaws the Mawile moved. The black horn-thing on the back of his head split open, revealing a massive mouth with huge teeth and a long, glistening tongue.

The creature's enormous teeth grabbed hold of the bloody steak and tossed it into the air. Jaws then caught it in his open mouth and swallowed it whole. Harper elbowed the little pokemon hard in the side. "Use your manners, mate," he chastised. "We're in public."

Jaws replied with an evil-looking grin. "Drink your juice," Harper said dismissively, turning back to the fondue platter. Jaws pulled the straw out of the glass of water before him and stuck it in the pool of "juice" on the plate, sucking it all up in one continuous slurp, then licking the plate clean with his enormous tongue. He then opened his enormous mouth and gave an almighty belch that actually made my hair stand up.

I looked over toward Machop, who was backed into a corner, trying to stay as far from Jaws as possible. His eyes were wide with terror, and when he reached for a Tentacool ring, he moved with almost exaggerated slowness, as if he didn't want the other pokemon to see him or know he was there.

I laughed as I picked up a fondue fork and looked down at the platter of meat, choosing. I speared a bit of Miltank steak and dipped it first in some beer batter, then into the cheese. Harper did the same with a chunk of Mudkip, and we sat in silence, waiting for them to cook.

Awhile later, we left the restaurant and headed outside. "So how are we getting to Dublin?" I asked.

"Don't you worry about a thing, mate," Harper said. "Your buddy Harper's got you covered."

He then reached into his pocket and pulled out a ring of keys, with a little keychain in the shape of a pokeball dangling from it. He grabbed the small remote control hanging from it and pushed the "unlock" button on it. A horn blared, and the lights of a car flashed from across the parking lot. It was a pretty nice car, too. I don't claim to be an expert, and it had been a very long time since I had ridden in anything that wasn't a bus or an airplane, but it looked fresh off the line, and it probably was. Last time I checked, I was pretty sure there hadn't been Hybrid Mustangs.

"Nice," I said appreciatively as I crossed to the passenger side of the blood-red car.

"What are you doing, mate?" Harper asked, coming to the same side. "You're not driving."

I looked at him questioningly. He gestured to the car, and I looked. Oh. Right, European car. The wheel was on the right side. I sheepishly went around to the other side of the car and got in. It was pretty roomy, with a lot of leg space and a seat that could lay all the way back.

I buckled my seatbelt and sat back in the cushy seat as Harper pulled out of the parking lot. "Dude, this car is amazing," I said.

"Thanks, mate," Harper said. "She's my new pride and joy."

"New?" I asked.

"Yeah," he said. "Bought her this morning."

"What?!" I cried out. "Seriously?"

"Yeah," Harper said. "You didn't expect me to walk all the way to Ireland, did you?"

"Where the hell do you get all this money?!"

He just laughed and kept driving.

"You got any tunes in here?" I asked.

"Course, mate," Harper said, opening up the armrest cavity between us. "Take your pick." A rack of pristine CD's that were still in the plastic sat inside.

"You buy all these this morning too?" I joked.

"Yeah," Harper said, entirely serious. "I've been known to gear up for road trips. I've pretty much got a fully stocked kitchen in the trunk if you're ever feelin' peckish."

I shook my head in amazement, flipping through the CD's. "Good stuff in here," I said, passing by Green Day's "American Idiot" with an appreciative nod. I finally decided on "Infinity On High" by Fall Out Boy, and pulled the plastic off.

"Beautiful," Harper said. "Pop it in, would you?"

I put the CD into the stereo, and we both began to sing as we hit the highway. This was gonna be an awesome trip.

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**Hey, everybody, sorry for the wait. hope you enjoyed this one, and i'll get teh next one up ASAP, ok?**

**God bless,**

**PerdyNerdy**


	8. Pathetic Capture, Pathetic Reunion

**Holy crap, everyone, I'm sorry for not writing in awhile, I've just been EXTREMELY busy. Oh, and if you hadn't noticed, I changed my name, so... I dunno, tell me how you like it!**

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8

Pathetic Capture, Pathetic Reunion

Twelve hours. Twelve continuous hours of driving. The ride had been fun at first, no lie, but it soon began to lose its novelty. By about the sixth consecutive hour, I was dying of boredom and I really had to pee. But I had promised Harper that I would until we reached the ferry station where we would hop the boat over to Ireland.

We were pushing seventy along a deserted British highway at about nine o'clock P.M., and my bladder felt like it was about to split. "Harper?" I squeaked.

"Yeah, mate?" he responded, not taking his eyes off the road.

"Dude, I don't think I'm gonna make it another three hours," I said. "I can feel my brain floating."

Harper sighed. "You don't mind going in public, do you?" he asked.

"Public where?" I groaned, looking out the window at the empty fields we were flying past.

"Nicely put," he said, and pulled the car over. I hopped out and walked away from the car a little, making my way a few feet into the tall grass on the side of the road. It had never felt so good to do some-

"_Speeeeeee-ROH_!!!"

"What the hell?" I cried, as I felt something sharp connect with the back of my head in the dark. Another "something" hit me around the face. I felt feathers.

I heard Harper crashing through the grass and brush behind me, calling, "Scott! You all right, mate?"

Harper burst into the semi-clear area where I was standing, stuck in a rather awkward and embarrassing position, and the beam from Harper's flashlight finally revealed my assailant. A small bird pokemon with brown feathers and red wings swooped around my head, and I looked down and saw what I hadn't seen before. A small nest lay on the ground in front of me, and I also saw what had disturbed the Spearow, because the nest was covered in… well, you get the idea…

I quickly zipped up my jeans and grabbed Machop's pokeball, preparing to throw it, when Harper cried, "No, mate! Flying beats Fighting, remember?"

Oh. Right.

"What do I do?" I cried as the Spearow's claws raked my shoulder.

"Take this, mate!" Harper called, throwing something to me. I caught it and realized that it was an empty pokeball, still shrunken into its compact size. Holding my other arm over my head to protect my face, I pushed the button on the ball, switching it to capture mode, and hurled it at the Spearow as she dive-bombed me. It split open, and the Spearow dematerialized, molecularly reconfiguring herself to fit in the ball. It snapped closed and fell to the ground, shaking madly as she struggled to break loose. After a few seconds, an L.E.D. on the button flashed twice, and the ball became still.

"Good catch, mate," Harper said. "What the hell happened?"

"I think I peed on her," I said awkwardly, picking up the pokeball with my new Spearow inside.

Harper laughed, shaking his head. "Going R. Kelly on a Spearow, mate," he said. "What's the world coming to?"

"Shut up," I said, getting back in the car.

"Well, this has been fun and all," Harper said as he started the car back up and we took off back down the road, "but we're a little set back now. I hope you don't mind going a little over the posted speed."

"Like we haven't been already?" I shot back.

"Good answer," Harper said, and stood on the throttle. We flew down the road at about ninety-five with renewed vigor, all the while rocking out to some Guns N' Roses, fresh from Harper's magical CD cavity.

About three hours later, Harper and I sat in the back of a line of cars waiting to get onto the ferry to Ireland. It was approaching midnight, but there was no way I was going to sleep. Instead, I sat there, trying to immerse myself in singing My Chemical Romance's "_Teenagers_" but failing miserably because of the fact that I had already screamed myself hoarse with my discovery of the lonely (and sort of out of place) Killswitch Engage album at the bottom of the stack.

We got past the tollbooth and Harper maneuvered the Mustang into a parking spot on top of the car ferry. He then turned the engine off and opened the door. "Getting out, mate?"

"Why?" I asked. "We're just on a ferry."

"Three-hour ride," Harper said, throwing up an eyebrow.

"Right," I said, opening my door. "Where to, cap'n?"

Harper pointed toward a small enclosed room on the other side of the floating parking lot. "Right in there."

I shrugged and followed him. We wove through cars and over to the little structure. The motion sensor-powered doors slid open as we reached it, and inside…

Was nothing. Just a staircase. Of course, there was no way they could keep anything even semi-entertaining in a room this small. I could feel claustrophobia kicking in as Harper and I headed down the stairs. Luckily, they opened out into a huge room full of video games, food stands, a swimming pool, and of course, a battle arena.

Oh, video games. I missed video games. I hadn't played a game since I played a couple levels of Zelda on Damian's DS on the plane ride over. I hurried over to the nearest machine and immersed myself in an old-school game of Pac-Man. Damn, I was glad they still had this game in England!

"Scott Luther?"

I jumped, distracted by the sound of my name, as Pac-Man met yet another demise to a vengeful Blinky. "Fuck! What-"

I turned around, furious, only to feel my words quickly strangle themselves on the way up my throat. Either that or they bowed down in reverent silence, I wasn't quite sure which.

I had almost forgotten how beautiful Kaylee Newman was in the two-and-a-half weeks since I had last seen her at our graduation ceremony at the Academy. She had been one of me and Damian's classmates, and I had had a serious "thing" for her since our first day at school. At that point, I remembered just how strong that "thing" had been. Oh, and the gloriously tight, navy blue bikini she was wearing at that particular moment didn't exactly help to weaken the "thing" either. Her shoulder-length, light-brown hair fell wet around her face, framing those dark green eyes I had so often got lost trying to get caught staring into, _and _she wore a thin pool towel draped around her shoulders, though (I threw up my first real prayer of thanks in a couple of years at this) not covering up anything important. And I also noticed that she wasn't exactly doing too much worse off in the aforementioned category since the last time I had seen her.

"Oh, uh… hey," I said, already floundering in embarrassment of my earlier outburst. As she smiled, I remembered why I had never sacked up and asked her out, a question I had been pondering quite deeply lately.

"How have you been?" Kaylee asked in her perky, semi-preppy manner that, for some reason, didn't really bug me. "Other than getting owned by that ghost on Pac-Man, I mean."

I tried to smile casually, though I imagine it probably looked like the grimace of someone with a toothache. "Just training, mostly," I said. "But I got the badge from England." I tried to inject a little boast into the statement, hoping she would notice.

"That's awesome, Scott!" she said, wide-eyed. "Was Chad tough, or what?"

"I dunno," I said, shrugging. "I took him down pretty easily." I felt more and more comfortable bragging with every passing second.

"Well, if he was that easy, then I oughta be a pushover for you," she said jokingly.

I didn't say anything. That was a statement that I, as a man who liked her, could not easily respond to. If I agreed, then she would think I was insulting her, and/or stuck on myself. If I disagreed… well, disagreeing isn't exactly a good way to get a woman on your side either.

She grinned deviously. "Good call, pleading the fifth," Kaylee said with a laugh. "Let's battle."

_That_ I could do. "Alright, let's go," I said, nervousness draining. If there was one place I was confident, it was the battlefield. I was back on my turf. Kaylee had been excellent at understanding and caring for pokemon, but she had never been big on battling. Still, I wasn't about to let my guard down, especially when she had suggested it.

We made our way to the arena, where a battle had just finished, and crossed to opposite sides. "Rules?" Kaylee called.

"Singles?" I suggested. She nodded. "First to admit defeat loses," I finished.

"Agreed," she replied. "Items?"

"Course," I said, though I really wasn't sure where she would be keeping any items… Well, scratch that. I had one idea, but yeah… It was hard enough to stay focused without _those_ particular images.

I pulled the pokeball containing my newly acquired Spearow off my belt, holding it up in front of me. "Please don't fail me," I muttered as I hurled it into the ring as Kaylee did the same.

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**Heh... Scott's getting mushy. This was an interesting scene for me to write, because I usually get nervous around girls too... anyway, sorry about the personal rant, but, you know, reviews would be nice, like usual, and I'm gonna try to post Ch.9 ASAP, so don't give up on me yet!**

**See you guys, and God bless,**

**Will Fail For Food**


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